


poetic

by ohlawsons



Series: the deòir twins [2]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Pillars Prompts Weekly, me @ these two: get your shit together and Talk About Your Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 04:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13651449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohlawsons/pseuds/ohlawsons
Summary: "NowEdér,” Maneha points out, nodding towards the center of the room, “I’m surprised at. Not that he’s dancing, but that he seems halfway decent at it. He and the Watcher make quite a pair, don’t they?”His head snaps up at that, perhaps too quickly — definitely too quickly, judging from the combined amusement of both Maneha and Iselmyr — to find Edér and Owain twirling around the room, in step with each other though they’re a bit off beat with the quick, jaunty music. Aloth isn’t jealous, not really, not any more than he had been of any of Owain’s other dance partners, but the fact that he has company at his table now makes the feeling that much sharper, and he finds himself pressing his lips into a thin frown as his eyes follow the Watcher. “Indeed.”





	poetic

**Author's Note:**

> for @pillarspromptsweekly on tumblr, prompt 0026: roll for it! i got _a character your watcher wishes to romance + dancing + hopes_. naturally, pining happened. 
> 
> set after durgan's battery, but still early in the main quest line

If there’s one good thing about Stalwart, it’s the warm reception they receive when they return from the Battery.

 _Warm_ meaning toasty, because as much as Owain and the rest of the group seem to appreciate the grateful attention of the townsfolk, Aloth prefers the roaring fire of the inn. It’s a welcome change from their freezing trek back to the town, and the promise of the best rooms in the Grèf’s Rest is an added bonus; the others seem happy enough to enjoy the impromptu celebration that began at their return, but even though Aloth has joined them for the evening he’s looking forward to a long night’s rest.

The loud, lively atmosphere of the inn would be infectious, if Aloth wasn’t finding his attention drawn to the Watcher; he isn’t alone in this, it seems, as Owain has most of the inn enraptured by his seemingly endless energy and charisma, leading various friends and strangers alike in elegant dances in step to the energetic music filling the room. Whenever Aloth manages to get a clear glimpse of him, Owain seems happier than the wizard has ever seen him, with a wide smile and a lightness to both his step and his expression.

Aloth isn’t _staring_ — even with as distracting as Owain is being, with his long hair loose and that low-cut Vailian style shirt he’s so fond of — but he tears his eyes away all the same as Maneha joins him at the table he’s at, tucked away over in a corner of the inn. “That ranger is one lucky gal,” she says brightly, a hint of wistfulness creeping into her cheery voice. Unlike Aloth, Maneha is far less subtle about where her gaze lingers, and watches with no small amount of interest as Pallegina takes a seat beside Anwyn at the bar. Anwyn’s hand finds Pallegina’s knee and she leans in to whisper something, and whatever she says brings a gleam to the paladin’s eyes. With a growing grin, Maneha lets out a low whistle. “Very lucky, I’m guessing,” she observes, “which probably means I’m not getting any more dances out of Pallegina.”

“I’m surprised she danced with anyone at all,” Aloth offered politely, interested less in making conversation and more in finding an excuse to turn his attention to someone other than Owain.

“I’m not. Now _Ed_ _ér_ ,” she points out, nodding towards the center of the room, “I’m surprised at. Not that he’s dancing, but that he seems halfway decent at it. He and the Watcher make quite a pair, don’t they?”

His head snaps up at that, perhaps too quickly — _definitely_ too quickly, judging from the combined amusement of both Maneha and Iselmyr — to find Edér and Owain twirling around the room, in step with each other though they’re a bit off beat with the quick, jaunty music. Aloth isn’t jealous, not really, not any more than he had been of any of Owain’s other dance partners, but the fact that he has company at his table now makes the feeling that much sharper, and he finds himself pressing his lips into a thin frown as his eyes follow the Watcher. “Indeed.”

“Listen, Aloth,” Maneha begins, leaning over and spilling into his personal space a bit more than he’d like — maybe it’s because she’s aumaua or maybe because she’s a barbarian, or maybe it’s just that Aloth is just more sensitive about physical proximity than the Dyrwoodans seem to be — and she gives a knowing nod towards Owain, “from one Awakened soul to another, do yourself a favor and go ask him for a dance. He’s going to work his way through the whole inn and never come over to you because you are just _radiating_ this energy that says ‘leave me alone.’”

( _Aye, I_ _’ll ask ‘im for ye._

He would almost be grateful for Iselmyr’s prodding, if not for the barely-concealed glee beneath her words — which certainly means trouble.)

“I… appreciate it, but I’m just fine staying over here.” Aloth gives a little mental nudge to Iselmyr so she knows the words are meant for her as well as Maneha.

“Of course you are, but that’s not going to solve the problem, now is it?” With a wink and another of her bright smiles, Maneha pushes off from the table and leaves him alone; he’s almost relieved, until he realizes she’s taking Edér’s place to share a dance with Owain. There’s an awful lot of _talking_ mixed in with their dancing, and Aloth feels his own dread beginning to mingle with Iselmyr’s delight as both Owain and Maneha steal a few glances back in his direction. Relief washes over him as the song ends and neither of them come over towards him; Owain pairs up with a dwarven woman from Stalwart, and Maneha manages to pull Edér back out for another dance.

Laughter begins to bubble up from Iselmyr, and Aloth ducks his head and clenches a fist and manages to hold her back; his nails bite sharply into his skin but it’s enough to keep Iselmyr quiet — out loud, at least — and he endures her pointed comments in silence. Despite his best attempts, he _does_ have to admit she’s right, in a way, in so very astutely observing that even with as relieved as he is to be left alone, there’s a dull disappointment in him as well, that stems from his evidently less than subtle hopes that Owain _would_ offer him a dance.

He’s certain he would’ve declined at least once for posterity’s sake, but as much as he would prefer to be left alone he would readily agree to a dance — or two, really — with Owain.

Not that it’s going to happen, he chides himself, because Owain’s avoided him for whatever reason all evening anyway and Maneha’s suggestion still wasn’t enough to sway the Watcher; besides, if Owain _does_ manage to ask him, it won’t be anything special. For all of the Watcher’s charisma and flirtation, he’s never been _serious_ about any of it, and even the few moments of sincerity between him and Aloth have been quickly sidetracked by Owain’s boundless curiosity about magic and souls and whatever puzzle he’s tackling at the time.

The night drags on and the inn slowly begins to empty as the music slows and the atmosphere falls. Aloth has maintained his quiet watch at the table tucked away in the corner, and perhaps some part of him is still waiting for Owain to ask him to dance though he doesn’t really expect it, those hopes long since dashed. Most of their group has begun heading up to their rooms, but it’s not until his own eyes grow heavy that Aloth decides to follow suit. He makes it halfway to the stairs before he’s stopped by a soft hand on his shoulder, and turns to find Owain, still bright-eyed and wide awake.

“Do me a favor,” the Watcher asks, a little lilt to his voice that makes Aloth wonder how much he’s had to drink. “One dance.”

“I’m sorry?” He heard Owain perfectly clearly, of course, but he’s not sure he quite believes that Owain’s actually asking.

“One dance,” he repeats. “I’ve gotten everyone else out there, even my sister, but yours is the company I’d been most looking forward to.” He falters at the admission, his hand falling limply to his side as he looks away and cracks a wry smile. “Whatever Haeferic’s been serving, it’s made me poetic.”

That’s it then, Aloth thinks — Owain’s been drinking, and has turned the night into a puzzle whose solution is figure out how to get Aloth to dance. He’s sorely tempted to give in and agree, even despite his reservations, but before Aloth can say anything Owain is shaking his head.

“Or not,” he backtracks with a shrug, still not quite meeting Aloth’s gaze. “Maneha said she doesn’t think you appreciate being the center of attention. I get it. If that’s the case, we could do something more private. Wait — no, that sounds like… that’s not what I’m asking. It _could_ be, but I just meant something… quieter. _Gods_ ,” he mutters, rubbing at his eyes, “I can’t think straight.”

Seeing the typically eloquent and charming Watcher stumble over his words is somewhat endearing, and Aloth finds his own doubts begin to smooth over. “Perhaps you just need to sleep it off.”

“I wish I could.”

The sudden weariness in Owain’s voice makes Aloth regret his choice of words; their whole traveling group is well aware of his restless nights, and here Aloth’s gone and made light of his exhaustion. “I’m sorry, Owain, I wasn’t—”

“I swear to Ondra,” he interrupts, “if you say you weren’t thinking about what you were going to say…” He leaves the statement open, but there’s a lightness to his tone again and a grin curls at the corner of his lips. “Forget the dance. I’ll think of something better when I’m more sober and less exhausted.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Aloth says with a small smile of his own, emboldened by the promise in Owain’s words.


End file.
